Damn it, Jim
by Starfleet-bone-girl
Summary: Bones like's being clean...he likes clean apartments, he is somewhat of a germaphobe. Jim, on the other hand loves to roll around in every single mess he makes. Rated T.
1. Damn it, man

Disclaimer- I own nothing. Although, I wish I owned Chris Pine. *sighs dramatically*

**DAMN IT JIM!**

**I got bored…and decided to write this… it's T because there's no actual deeds being done…but it leans towards M because of my current obsession with Mckirk. **

**You've been warned.**

**PWP**

**And…I've written stuff before…but this is the first Star Trek piece.**

**:D **

**Florence OUT! **

The early morning sun shone through the large window; however, it did not raise the two men sleeping soundly in the cramped double bed. There were clothes all over the floor, mugs, plates and glasses on the window sills; there was even a pile of toilet roll cardboard holders in the corner of the bathroom by the shower.

It was safe to say, academy life blowed, but a little less when one had someone to spend it with.

From one glance around the apartment, one would know that it simply could not belong to the young strapping doctor who lay sleeping soundly on the bed, one leg thrown haphazardly across the young Captain's hips. The younger boy's head rested below the good doctor's chin, his lips pressed into the skin of his shoulder. They were in a position that was utterly comfortable, both bare as the day they were born.

A loud groan interrupted the peaceful quiet, alerting the young captain that his doctor was awake.

"Damn it man… do you ever clean this place!" the doctor's gruff voice broke through the early morning molasses, as he moved to the other side of the bed, removing himself from his beau.

"Take a look around, then you tell me." was the young boy's reply.

The boy heard a mug being lifted from the window sill and smiled with his eyes still closed.

"Damn it, Jim! I'm a doctor…it's downright unhealthy to be livin' in a room with mugs of fuckin' mould!" Bones grumbled.

Jim shrugged…"You wanted it badly enough last night that you didn't want to go to your apartment. We settled for mine instead." He laughed.

"Nuh-uh…you were practically suckin' me off outside of the god damn door…what else could I have done?"

"Drag me by my hair to your place so we wouldn't be having this conversation right now. Instead we'd be fucking."

Bones blushed. "Don't be such a god-damned potty mouth."

"Oh get over it you over-obsessed germaphobe."

"Hey! There's nothin' wrong with bein' clean!" Bones said, smacking Jim on the ass.

"Ooh Kinky. You're giving me wood, Bones."

Bones scowled and glanced down at their bodies and blushed slightly, the forgotten sheets were in a pile at the end of the bed and he wouldn't mind admitting that the sun was doing a fantastic job at emphasizing every last muscular curve of Jim's body.

"I can feel you staring at me…you're turned on. I know this because you've stopped being a grouch for more than three minutes."

"How very observant of you, Jimbo..." Bones grouched, a tiny smirk curving the corner of his lips.

A few more minutes passed and they both just lay there, listening to each other breathing.

"Darlin', get your sexy ass up here now." Bones breathed, grabbing one of Jim's hands and placing it where he most needed it.

Jim grinned and pounced, and crushed his mouth to Bones', letting out a soft moan.

"I love you, Bones."

Bones grinned, "I love you too, Darlin'."

They didn't leave Jim's dirty apartment until two days later…the apartment was clean from top to bottom, as were they.


	2. Clean

Leonard quickly taps in the override code for Jim's apartment and grins when the computer makes an affirmative noise. He picks up the cleaning bucket at his feet and waltzes in, knowing that Jim won't be there until later.

The place, as he expected is an absolute dump, there are dirty clothes everywhere, even some old food by the general smell of the place. Leonard shivers and darts over to open the large windows in the room, sighing with relief when the room fills with fresh, clean air.

Why he tolerates Jim's lack of cleanliness, he'll never know. He throws the bucket down on a nearby table and starts by putting on a pair of rubber gloves and smiles as the words 'better safe than sorry' flood his mind. Fifteen minutes later the floor is clear of clothing and the bathroom is halfway done, Leonard had been surprised by the general lack of untidiness in the bathroom, it had been surprisingly clean. It confused him to no end on how Jim wouldn't tolerate an unclean bathroom, yet he was absolutely fine with leaving food around to moulder.

An hour and thirty minutes later, the place is clean, thankfully due to the fact that Starfleet don't issue cadets large apartments. Leonard smiled and checked his watch once everything was cleaned and packed away, he had a half hour before Jim would be back so he could leave a note and be gone.

He sat at the now clean table and chairs and pulled a piece of Starfleet water marked paper out of his bag, knowing that Jim would most likely look at the insignia before looking at the words and panic, even before noticing that his whole apartment had been cleaned from top to bottom.

_Jim,_

_You are the most disgusting creature in this block. What I found in your bathroom trash can was revolting. Clean your god-damned apartment once in a while so I don't have to!_

_You're lucky I love you; else you'd be livin' in a shit hole._

_I was gettin' tired of havin' sex with you and smellin' some kind of off food at the same time... maybe you're immune to it, but I sure as hell ain't._

_Remember, darlin I love you all the same'. _

McCoy.

Leonard smiles wickedly and places a small vase in the middle of the table with a small pink flower in some water. After spraying some air-freshener around, he left with the same wicked smile on his face as earlier.

Jim entered his apartment at a quarter to five and froze in the doorway. Something was wrong, very wrong. He crept into the apartment, silently hanging his bag on the lone peg next to the door before silently creeping into the middle of the room. On the table lay a Starfleet water marked letter, his heart soared as he reached down and snatched it from the table.

He held his breath for a few seconds until he saw what was written on the paper and slumped, screwing it up into a ball and tossing it into a nearby trash can.

How many times had he and Bones argued about the state of his apartment, many… but he had never actually thought Bones would do something about it. Damn.

He had known, for what seemed like forever that Bones liked everything clean, so clean that you could practically eat off of it. He loved Bones, he really did, and it made him feel embarrassingly warm whenever he did something like this for him. He smiled to himself, happy that for once in his life; he was head-over heels in love with someone, and that that someone happened to be in love with him equally.

Jim unlocked the door to his apartment and quietly crept in, just in case Bones had decided to sleep there that night. He smiled largely when she spotted the silhouette of Bones' body in his bed, really glad that he would have someone to cuddle up to that night.

He silently shucked off his clothes and threw them into the hamper in the bathroom, before sliding boxer-clad into the bed. He moved so that he was flush against the back of Bones' body, and moved an arm to curve around the front of Bones' body. He squeezed Bones gently before shoving his face into Bones' hair, Bones grumbled slightly in his sleep, but eventually moved a hand up to rest on Jim's forearm.

"I love you, you untidy bastard." Bones mumbled, half asleep. Jim grinned and kissed just under Bones' ear.

"I love you too, you germaphobic weirdo."

Sleep came quite easy after that, which they were both thankful for.

I'll probably keep adding little drabbles to this story because I quite enjoy writing Mckirk. I may occasionally try to be bold and write a slash chapter, because who doesn't enjoy reading those, don't deny it ha-ha…we've all done it at one point.

Natalie out…


End file.
